


we were here, grieving the saddened faces

by partialconstellations



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, House Stark, I will not have Robb Stark disrespected in my own home, Implied/Referenced Character Death, R Plus L Equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 13:45:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18012050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partialconstellations/pseuds/partialconstellations
Summary: Robb’s ghost is everywhere tonight, it seems.





	we were here, grieving the saddened faces

 

> _we were here_  
>  _grieving the saddened faces_  
>  _conquering the darkest places_ _  
> _
> 
> \-- Alpenglow, by Nightwish

 

* * *

 

Jon has started to gravitate to the crypts a lot in recent days. Not only does it make him feel closer to his family, now that he knows his life has been a lie, it is also an escape from everyone else. Winterfell is so full of people now, too full. And yet, Sansa has absolutely refused to let him bunk up with someone, because apparently it isn’t proper now. He used to have to share with Theon a lot, when there were guests, until Theon started to sneak off to share with Robb instead. It doesn’t feel right, to have the castle so full of people and simultaneously have his chambers all to himself.

And yet, the loneliness of his chambers – once Robb’s, because sleeping in his own _also_ isn’t proper now – feels suffocating when he can’t sleep. And he can’t sleep more than he can, these days. So, he goes to the crypts, the place he escapes to when all of these people, all of them wanting something from him, get to be too much. That he flees here from himself and Robb’s ghost, maybe, in the darkness of night – the irony isn’t lost on him.

Except when he gets down there, walking past Lya- no, his mother – how he longed for that knowledge, once upon a time – and Father, hurrying past Lady Stark, someone’s already there, sitting on the floor, knees drawn up, in front of – Robb and Grey Wind. Robb’s ghost really _is_ everywhere tonight, it seems.

“Theon.”

Theon looks up at him. He looks about as bad as Jon feels; his eyes are sunk low into their sockets and he still looks too thin. “Jon,” he greets, even his voice raw with exhaustion.

Jon looks up at Robb, the mason obviously going from other people’s tales of Robb, instead of his own memories. He looks too old, a crown circles around Robb’s hair – too _neat_ , nowhere near curly enough – and his hand rests on Grey Wind’s back. Jon swallows, thickly. King in the North and of the Trident. He hopes the history books will remember Robb as more than a footnote or, worse, the King Who Lost The North. Robb was more than that, a kind brother who just desperately wanted them all to get along, who was happiest when out riding, with both Jon and Theon, even if all they ever did was squabble and spit insults at each other. Robb would have been a good lord, had he had the chance to be one. Robb doesn’t deserve to be forgotten.

“I didn’t want to leave him. Everything went wrong the day I betrayed him.” Theon’s voice sounds a million leagues away.

Jon swallows down his first, and his second, reply. “You’ve paid for your mistakes.” _We all paid for your mistakes._ On another day, he would have said it out loud, but he doesn’t. Mostly, he just wants Theon to shut up and let him _think_.

Instead, it seems to encourage Theon, the words all but tumble out of his mouth. “I keep thinking that maybe if I’d stayed, it would have been different. He wouldn’t have thrown the alliance with the Freys away for some woman he just met. He and I were—”

“I _know_ ,” Jon cuts him off, licking his lips and looks down at him. “It doesn’t matter anymore, whose fault it is or isn’t.”

Theon’s eyes go wide. “You—” Then he shakes his head. “How?”

“Because, unlike what you kept telling me, I’m not an idiot. Also, Robb told me.” He sits down on the floor opposite Theon, with his back to Robb’s statue. It’s too hard to look at.

“And you didn’t say anything?”

Jon shrugs. “We didn’t exactly _talk_ , you and I.”

“All the shit I’ve given you and you could have just shot back.”

Jon shakes his head. “None of my business.”

Theon sighs, wringing his hands. “Even now, you’re too honourable, Snow.”

“Shut up, Greyjoy.”

They settle into a silence, each in his own thoughts. What else is there to say, really? All that has connected them was Robb and Robb is _gone_ , his tomb empty.

Sansa and Ghost join them later. It could have been ten minutes or it could have been an eternity.

Ghost has taken to Sansa in the time Jon has been gone and mostly stays with her. Jon supposes she needs Ghost more than he does and it’s calming to know she is not completely without protection. She has stuck her neck out for him one too many times. At least she won’t get a knife in the back. She takes one look at Theon, then Jon, both sitting on the floor. Then she looks up at Robb’s statue, and sighs. “It really doesn’t look like him, doesn’t it.” It’s phrased as a question, but her tone says it isn’t.

“No,” Jon replies, quietly. “It doesn’t.”

“I miss his smile the most,” Theon admits, half mumbling it into his knees. “He’d smile at you and it was like the whole world stopped. Fucking ray of sunshine, that arsehole was.”

Sansa looks at him like her heart is about to break. Ghost whines softly.

“The last time I saw him, he told me the next time he saw me, I would be all in black.” He chuckles, a wry, broken sound, before he looks down at himself, the white wolf on his collar the only thing that stands out against the rest. “Close enough, I guess.”

“The last time I saw him, he had snowflakes melting in his hair,” Sansa says, the hint of a smile on her lips. It just makes her look sadder. She sinks down to sit on the edge of the base of the statue. Her knee bumps against Jon’s shoulder. “He hugged me and told me to be careful.” She shakes her head. “He really wasn’t one to talk.”

“The last time I saw Robb, the Freys were parading his body around with Grey Wind’s head sewn to it.” Arya’s voice is hard, seemingly emotionless, but there’s a quiver there, just a small one.

Jon turns his head to look at her. Arya stands by a pillar next to her mother’s statue, arms crossed. Jon tries his hardest not to look at Lady Stark’s statue, the same way it has been with the woman herself, so he doesn’t know if he just hasn’t seen her when he stalked past past Lady Stark’s statue, or if she has just shown up. He wouldn’t put either past her. Her face is set in a grim line. Ghost pads over to her and licks her hand. A surprised giggle escapes her, just a small one, the sound gone before it can take root.

As he looks at Arya, a keening noise comes from his right. At first, Jon thinks it’s Sansa, but no, the direction is all wrong. It’s Theon, head buried in the crook of his arms. His shoulders are shaking. And there Ghost is again, his nose brushing his ear before he wedges his way in between Theon’s torso and legs, where he settles down.

Sansa reaches for Theon’s hand at the same time as Jon. She’s on her knees next to him now. Their fingers brush each other’s, and Jon retreats, letting them share their grief with each other. They’ve been through Ramsay Bolton together, they deserve to find comfort in each other. Instead, it’s Arya who puts her hand on his shoulder and he pulls her towards himself, to the floor and she curls into his arms, like the little girl she’s been, a thousand years ago.

They stay that way for a long time, grieving the brother they’ve lost, the person they’ve all looked up to in their own way; Stark and Snow, Stark and Greyjoy.

When they emerge from the crypt, dawn is upon them. Bran is waiting for them outside. He looks different, more like himself. Arya takes a single look at him and hugs him, too. “What about Rickon?” he asks, voice soft, muffled by her cloak.

They truly are lost.

**Author's Note:**

> I just miss Robb, okay. And Ghost has adopted every single remaining Stark, including Theon, I don't make the rules.
> 
> The title of the fic is from Nightwish's [Alpenglow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2_ETb-63oo) and I do recommend giving it a listen, it is excellent.  
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated.


End file.
